Rhapsody on a Theme of Rurouni
by lawless
Summary: No summary available.
1. Introduzione

**Rhapsody on a Theme of Rurouni**

_By lawless_

* * *

_Introduzione._

* * *

The _hitokiri_ emerged from the subway. A cool wind ruffled the collar of his coat. He stood on the street for a moment, looking up and down. And then, he started walking, neither too fast nor too slow, his strides brisk. At a corner, he took a left towards the docks. A ferry boat was waiting for him there. It was small and he was the only passenger. The boat ride from Asakusa to the Hamarikyu Gardens in Minato took about ten minutes. When he got off, he told the skipper to wait and gave him a ten-thousand yen bill.

The teashop in Nakashima located in the middle of the pond in the gardens was a favorite spot for visitors looking to enjoy refreshment and _mochi_. It was usually a crowded place; but today, the shop was open to and serving only one patron. A few distances away, men in sunglasses and black funeral suits stood under a plum tree grove, far enough not to disturb the atmosphere of tranquility but close enough to respond in case of danger. They'd taken all precautions but it was all irrelevant. From his vantage point on one of the bridges, hidden behind a cloud of hanging wisteria, the _hitokiri_ had a clear, unobstructed view of his target through the scope of his sniper's rifle.

A faint breeze was blowing. The _hitokiri_ adjusted his bearings and waited; he was a patient man. The shopkeeper was still at the counter. From the corners of his eyes, the _hitokiri_ saw the men in suits standing around, shifting restlessly. One of them took out his gun and inspected the cartridge, then returned it to its holster under his suit. Inside the teashop, the shopkeeper turned away from the counter and disappeared into a backdoor.

The _hitokiri_ made his move.

There was only a sharp hissing sound, barely heard over the call of birds and running water and the voices of the men in suits talking.

When the shopkeeper stepped back into the shop two minutes later, his lone patron was face-down on a plate of _mochi_. Blood trickled from the bullet-hole through the graying temples. The shopkeeper shouted in alarm. But by the time the men in suits came inside, the _hitokiri_ had already made his escape on the ferry boat, heading for Hinode Pier in the mouth of the Sumida River.

* * *

TBC

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

The title is a play on Rachmaninoff's _Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini_. The story has got nothing to do with the story, however. I just wanted the word "rhapsody" on the title so I looked the word up on Wikipedia and it was this or "Rhapsody on Red" (which is also a play on _Rhapsody in Blue_ by Gershwin) but eventually I settled for the longer title.

Okay, so this fic is a little ambitious on my part. It's all about plot and it's a little convoluted so bear with me. I do hope you enjoy this.

* * *

LET'S LEARN JAPANESE!

_hitokiri_ - assassin; murderer; human slayer

_mochi_ - sweet, sticky rice


	2. Variazione I

**Rhapsody on a Theme of Rurouni**

_By lawless_

* * *

_Variazione I._

* * *

Himura Kenshin woke with a start and automatically reached for the gun under his pillow. He grasped empty air.

That dream again. Himself standing at the edge of the pier. Gunshots. He could still feel the pain as the bullets ripped through flesh and the cold waters of Tokyo Bay swirled around him, black as ink.

He rubbed a hand across his face and tried to turn to his side without breaking his wounds open again. It was still dark outside but through the gap in the drapes he could already see the pale pink streaks of dawn across the sky. A neighbor's dog was barking. Faint sounds of a train stopping at the Shimbashi Station nearby. Someone coughed from the next room. There were the faint sounds of footsteps in the hallway outside.

The Kamiya Kasshin Guesthouse was located in a tiny nook on a narrow street in Minato Ward and a mere twelve-minute walk from the aforementioned station. Currently, the old building was housing four people, including its young manager and her brother. The former, while on her way home from night school, was the one who found Kenshin half-dead on the banks of the Sumida River. That was three weeks ago. Even now, he still could not understand why she'd bothered to take him in. There was a kindly old doctor guesting at the house who'd patched up his wounds but it had been Kamiya Kaoru who'd stayed with him during the worst of his period of recovery. She'd talk to him and from these often one-sided conversations, Kenshin had gathered that she and her brother, Yahiko, were orphans. Their father had died some years back. Turning the house into a shared apartment helped support the two of them but just barely. Kaoru had to work part-time at a convenience store in order to pay for Yahiko's schooling and her own.

The guesthouse had four private bedrooms and everything else – the kitchen, the toilet, bathroom and living room – were shared between the "guests." The Kamiyas occupied the North-East room. Another was taken by an amateur fighter, Sagara Sanosuke, and then another by the doctor, Oguni Genzai. It was a tightly-knit group, more a family than a gathering of strangers, and Kenshin's late addition changed the group dynamics somewhat. They'd asked no questions – _yet_.

It was a temporary set-up at best. Even though the Kamiya Kasshin guests were a discreet bunch, Kenshin had decided long ago not to stop at one place for too long. Just until he recovered from his injuries. Any longer than that and he would be putting not only his life in danger but theirs as well.

* * *

Sagara Sanosuke put down his fifth bowl of rice and belched. Across the table from him, Kaoru made an offended sound while Yahiko grinned.

"Ugh, Sano, you're the worst," Kaoru said.

Instead of apologizing, Sano let out another loud belch before putting a piece of bone between his teeth and gnawing on it absently. The most striking thing about Sagara Sanosuke was the shock of hair on his head. Thick and dark, it stood tall and proud like its owner, and so gelled it looked like construction material. The face underneath it may be considered handsome at a certain angle but it was often covered in bruises and cuts it was difficult to see past them. As it was, people usually steered clear from him, taking him for a dangerous guy. Kaoru and Yahiko both knew better, however, and treated him more like an overstaying relative who could sometimes be thoughtful and kind when least expected.

Right now, Sano was displaying that rare side of his as he mused out loud, "There's a new gang in town. Real tough guys. From the looks of 'em, they ain't from 'round here an' they're definitely lookin' for trouble."

"_Hora, hora_!" said the very excitable fifteen-year-old Yahiko. "I've seen them lounging in front of Fudosawa's office, all evil-looking and scaring ordinary folks. I thought they were part of the new fighting group he hired."

"Ya know nuthin', _bozu_," Sano said, swatting at Yahiko's head as if he were a fly but Yahiko was quick and docked out of reach. Sano grinned, impressed.

"Says the guy who dresses like an idiot _bousouzoku_," Yahiko quipped. It was true. In his favorite heavily patched-up military issue overcoat, Sano looked like a member of those biker gangs that often menaced the streets of Tokyo. A particularly over-aged one, considering that the average age of the members was under twenty.

For that comment, Sano took another playful swat at Yahiko, who returned with a swift punch to his arm.

"_Ano_," Kaoru said with a sigh, putting her cup down and ignoring the boys' antics, "whoever they are, they're Fudosawa's problem, not ours. I don't have to tell you to stay out of it."

"You don't have to tell me twice. I hate those _yakuza_ thugs," Yahiko declared heatedly.

Sano merely grunted. After a moment, he said, "Oi, _jou-chan_, ya still got that taser I gave ya last time?"

"Yeah. _Nan__ de?_"

"Keep it handy, jus' in case. Right now, Fudosawa ain't doin' nuthin' but who knows how long he's gonna take this kinda shit?"

Kaoru frowned. "I've grown up in these streets my whole life, Sanosuke. I've seen my fair share of gang wars. I can take care of myself and Yahiko. Also," she added, giving him a cutting look, "watch your mouth. You're not at the ring anymore."

Sano shifted in his seat, still gnawing on his piece of bone. "I mean it, _jou-chan_. No more pickin' up strange strays, _kore yo_. These guys could be dangerous. No offense, Kenshin."

From his cot nearby, the resident stray, who had heretofore kept his mouth shut, held up his hand in a pacifying manner. "None taken."

Seeing that Sano's concern was genuine, Kaoru nodded. He was probably right anyway. Being a fighter at the mock-up rings down by the station, Sano frequently brushed shoulders with lots of people who ran around with _yakuza_, so if there was one person who ought to know about the way things were going on the other side of the street, it was Sano. She just wished he would leave Kenshin out of it. The man was not even strong enough to feed himself, let alone try to attack her or the other occupants of the house.

Oh, she knew the man had a past. She wasn't that naïve. If not the multiple bullet wounds he was suffering from the night she'd found him, then the distinctive X-shaped scar on his face told her as much. But she wasn't about to turn away from someone who clearly needed her help. More than her help, he also needed her discretion. The people who had been after him probably thought he was dead and that was why there had been no search parties but if he was ever seen by the wrong people, it would not be long before he would be forced to go on the run again.

"Ya got a crush on this guy, that it?" Sano had insinuated once when she'd refused to let him ask Kenshin some questions.

"No," she'd replied with far more gusto than necessary. "I only meant – well, everyone has one or two things about their past they don't want to talk about. Aren't you the same? Isn't that why you fight for money?"

He'd looked surprised for a minute before he'd let out a gruff "_keh_" and left. Since that day, Sano had steadily avoided confronting Kaoru about the man. Sano could be overprotective sometimes. She used to imagine it was because he secretly held a torch for her but no. None of his actions or behavior in her presence could be interpreted as anything remotely romantic. If anything, it felt a lot like chuck-to-the-chin older brotherly sort of affection.

Today was the first time he'd brought the matter of Kenshin's suspicious circumstances up and it was only because of trouble brewing in the streets. No matter, she had a brother to feed and put to school, a business to run, which reminded her that Sano was already two months behind on his rental. However, when she asked him for the money, he merely said that his next fight was tomorrow night and that he would surely pay her from his winnings.

"You better," Kaoru warned as she filled up a bowl with _miso_ soup. At that moment, the old doctor Oguni stepped into the room and joined them at the table just as Sano was leaving.

"_Ja._ Gotta hit the gym," he mumbled on his way out.

"Oi, Sano, you promised you'd take me to the arcades!" Yahiko called after him. Sano made no sign he heard, causing the boy to slump back in his seat, clearly disappointed.

* * *

The meeting was held in the conference room of the Red Star Tower, the headquarters building of the Hoshino-gumi, one of the major _yakuza _groups based in Tokyo. Three men dressed in almost identical, dark pinstripe suits were seated around a long, coffin-shaped table. Hanging from a wall directly above them was the banner of the Hoshino family: a pure white cloth with a blood-red star crest in the middle. When the doors swung open to admit a fourth person, all eyes in the room turned to him.

He was a tall man, with a lean, pared down look to him, no excesses anywhere. According to the official records, he was in his late thirties but the man had one of those hard, unwrinkled faces that made it difficult to guess his correct age. His eyes were gold, remote and unreadable.

"What is the meaning of this?" demanded Gouda Nobuyoshi, the head of the Kuroryuu Society, a powerful _ninkyou_ group based in Chiba. He was a big hulking man and generally acted like a bully. "How dare you summon us here like we're your goddamned personal lapdogs?"

The newcomer looked unfazed as he calmly took out a cigarette between his surprisingly elegant fingers and lit it.

Next to Gouda sat Tani Juusanrou, a fat, pig-faced man with pale-pink skin. His group, the Takeguchi-kai, was spread across the Central Tokyo Area but he also had a stake in the underground casinos in Shimbashi. "I couldn't care less what we're all doing here," he said. "I am, however, interested in what you have to say about Kuroryuu men stirring up trouble in my territory."

Gouda scoffed. "According to my men, it was your idiot nephew, Fudosawa, who started the whole thing."

"That is a lie," Tani said mildly. "Ever since old man Harakawa got offed by the Koreans, you've been after his territories like a bitch in heat."

Gouda's eyes went red with anger. He looked ready to pounce.

"Enough." A stout man who carried himself rather stiffly, Nakawa Shunsaku commanded what local cops called the 'violence groups' in the Tama River Area. He addressed the entire room, "Before we tear at each other like rabid dogs fighting over scraps of meat, don't you think we ought to hear out the man who called us here?"

Although the altercating men looked far from calming down, the fourth man took this as his cue to speak. "Gentlemen," he began, narrowing his eyes in what could be interpreted as a smile.

Gathering the four men together under one roof took some hard convincing. To accomplish it, the Akamatsu Credit Union Group had to report a five hundred million yen loss for the third quarter. However, persuading these rival _yakuza_ families to put their differences aside, even for the time being, required a Herculean effort. Fujita Goro, newly appointed _kumicho_ of Hoshino-gumi, found that he had to tread carefully. There were deep-seated prejudices and animosity between the groups that went beyond mere professional rivalry and turf competition. So Fujita came prepared. He knew that if there was one thing that could unite three obstinate buttheads together, it was a common enemy.

So he gave them what they needed.

"Kyoto?" Gouda interjected, surprise written all over his features.

"You mean the Juppongatana?" Tani said at almost the same time.

Nakawa, the oldest of the group, had a more sober reaction. "Shishio Makoto," he muttered under his breath. "There are rumors he's dead. Burned to death."

"Yeah, I heard about that, too," Gouda piped up, scratching his chin. "Some rogue _hitokiri _done and killed him for offing his wife. The _hitokiri_'s wife, not Shishio's." There was a short pause and then he said, "So Shishio's alive then and he's got his lackey pissing all over our city. I'll be damned."

"_Chotto matte_," Tani joined in, looking in Fujita's direction. "How do you know this is Shishio's doing?" He asked. "So you've seen Sadojima Houji around and, granted, the man probably can't fart without Shishio's bidding –" Gouda guffawed "—what's your proof it's really Shishio who's pulling all the strings here? I mean, couldn't it be that crazy kid who used to stick to him like glue – what's his name? Or that skinhead lunatic? Or even that blind bastard?"

"Seta Soujirou. Yuukyuuzan Anji. Uonuma Usui." Fujita provided. "Neither of them." He slipped his hand into his coat pocket, which alarmed the men in the room somewhat, but he calmed them with a steady look before he drew out his hand to reveal that he was merely holding an envelope. Inside were photographs of Shishio Makoto, _oyabun_ of the Kyoto-based Juppongatana, taken two days ago in a hotel in Minami-ku.

"Holy shit!" Gouda exclaimed at the sight of the man in the photos. "I pity the whore who has to fuck that walking scar."

Even Tani had to swear. "_Kuso_. You'd think he'd have preferred death over this. A living hell."

"Shishio is alive," Nakawa stated the obvious. "And right now, his _wakagashira_ is – as you say – cruising Tokyo for possible connections with our friends from the business district." The old man crossed his arms in front of him and leveled Saitou with a firm gaze. "That's hardly proof the Juppongatana is planning a hostile takeover. Even if he has the intention, he doesn't have the resources or the manpower to accomplish it."

Fujita took a puff on his cigarette. "Shishio has expanded his base of operations to Hong Kong. My sources tell me he's got friends with the Triad, young new recruits. I say he's got the resources _and_ the manpower, Nakawa-san, and he's already made his move."

"What are you talking about?" Nakawa questioned.

"Harakawa wasn't done in by the Koreans."

Silence fell all over the room. The three men exchanged looks, shocked by the realization. Looking back, it was all very simple. Apart from some minor skirmishes, there hadn't been any big disturbances in Tokyo's underworld for a number of years. Harakawa and the Koreans, that was the first. Now, Kuroryuu and Takeguchi-kai. Meanwhile, Sadojima Houji set up seemingly harmless meetings with some of Tokyo's top corporate executives.

It was all too simple.

"At any rate," Nakawa finally spoke, not fully convinced, "I'm not making a move until I know what Sadojima is up to. I'm not so wet behind the ears as that!"

Fujita made a deft movement with his hand, revealing the slim gold Rolex around his wrist. He glanced at it and murmured, "Right now, Shishio's number two should be inside the Keio Plaza Hotel to meet with Takeda Kanryuu, Vice-President of Takani Pharmaceuticals."

There was another long pause. This time, it was Tani who broke it. "I thought Takani cut off all ties to Hoshino-gumi a long time ago."

Fujita narrowed his eyes for the second time since the meeting began. He said, "Only one way to find out."

* * *

The doctor removed the stethoscope from his ears and draped the device around his neck. He gave Kenshin his prognosis: "Your fever's broken. The cough's gone. And your wounds are healing nicely. You should be able to walk on your own in a few days."

Kenshin thanked him as he shrugged on his shirt. He meant it. He would never be able to repay the debt of gratitude he owed to Oguni Genzai or to Kamiya Kaoru and her friends. Not in seven lifetimes. Not even in the afterlife. They took him in when he was just seconds away from death, patched him up, and gave him a place to stay while he recuperated. They didn't even ask questions. They simply…accepted that he was there with them.

"Your tea's ready," a bright and cheerful voice said. Its owner, a young woman of twenty-two with raven hair drawn back in a ponytail, soon appeared from the next room, carrying a tray filled with tea things. "_Sensei_?" She said, offering the doctor a cup of the steaming liquid.

"_Arigatou gozaimasu_, Kaoru-chan," Oguni-sensei said, accepting the cup with both hands. He inhaled deeply and smiled. "Ah, jasmine green tea. You remembered."

"I know that's your favorite." Kaoru handed the next cup to Kenshin.

"_Arigatou, _Kaoru-dono," Kenshin murmured.

As usual, Kaoru looked uncomfortable with the very formal address. "_Ano_…." She started to say, sweatdropping, but then she considerably brightened as she remembered something. "So you're going to be well. That's good news!"

Kenshin found himself smiling back at her. The girl's cheerfulness was infectious. She was…so very young. They talked for a while, the three of them, about casual conversation topics such as the weather, their favorite green tea flavor, Sagara Sanosukes's hair product. Then about ten minutes before five, Kaoru decided that she had to start getting ready for her part-time job at the _kombini_. The two men stared after her as she walked away. A beat later, Oguni-sensei said musingly, "Fine young woman. I knew her father, did I ever tell you that? Of course, the man never imagined this kind of life for his daughter, running around with streetpunks like that Sanosuke…. And me, an old man." He cast his patient a sidelong glance.

Kenshin blew on his cup before taking a careful sip. After he'd partaken of the fragrant liquid, he put his cup back into its saucer and smiled at the doctor. "I can't tell you how much I appreciate what you've done for me, _sensei_."

The doctor waived his hand dismissively. "Please, it's nothing. One of the perks of opening a clinic right in _boryokudan_ territory. People are always coming in with all kinds of cuts and bruises. Yes," he added with a cheeky smile that belonged more to a twelve-year-old than an old man of seventy years, "sometimes, even gunshot wounds."

"Cops don't ask?"

"Because I don't know anything," Oguni-sensei replied. "I heal people. I don't ask them questions because it doesn't matter. Whoever they are, whatever they do – it means nothing if they're your patient."

"It must be wonderful," Kenshin said, referring to the kind of fulfilling occupation the doctor had. After a long silence, he raised his head and stared at the ceiling. "I tried walking about this morning. My legs have grown weak these past few weeks."

The doctor raised his eyebrows. "That explains why I noticed some of your wounds have reopened. Don't overexert yourself," he advised.

Kenshin glanced back down and stared at him for the longest time. Then he said in a hesitant manner, "_Sensei_, I'm not…not good." He glanced around meaningfully before fixing the doctor with a look, adding softly, "Here."

"You mean, it's not good for you to be here?"

He nodded and looked down at his cup. His face, reflected on the green liquid, was shadowed. "I have to leave." All of a sudden, Kamiya Kaoru's smile came into his mind unbidden. He had the distinct feeling that she wouldn't be smiling when he told her that he was going away. Even if….

He couldn't stay.

"Well," Oguni-sensei said, having studied Kenshin's profile this whole time, "reckon you have to go for whatever reasons you may have and perhaps you ought to." Then, he added, "As your doctor, however, I strongly advise you to stay put for another week or two." He smiled to take the sting out of his words. "At least, until you're able to walk twenty feet without falling over."

Kenshin looked at him, realizing that the doctor had taken the choice from him, had made it for him, and to his infinite surprise, he was grateful. He lifted his cup to his lips. "All right," he said in a voice barely above a whisper.

* * *

TBC

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

I had a long debate with myself whether or not to make Saitou a yakuza boss. I imagine this will not sit well with some fans of the character. Friends, I only know one truth, and that is: Saitou is badass. So, chew on that for a moment.

* * *

LET'S LEARN JAPANESE!

_hora!_ - slang for "hey!"

_bozu_ - rude way of calling a kid, roughly equivalent to "squirt" or "brat"

_bousouzoku _- refers to Japan's motorcycle gangs

_ano..._ - miscellaneous term, could mean "well..." or "actually..." and often used in the beginning of a sentence

_yakuza_ - Japan's mafia

_jou-chan_ - Sano's nickname for Kaoru; in the English dub, it's translated to "Little Missy"

_nan de_? - informal way of asking "why?"

_kore yo_ - informal term for "do this for me"

_ja_ - informal way of saying "bye"

Kuroryuu - literally means "Black Dragon"

_ninkyou_ - what yakuza refer to themselves; it means "helper"

_kumicho or oyabun_ - means "father;" equivalent to the Godfather or the don in the Italian mafia

Juppongatana - literally means "Ten Swords"

_hitokiri_ - assassin; murderer; human-slayer

_chotto matte_ - informal way of saying "wait a minute"

_kuso_ - curse word meaning "shit!"

_wakagashira_ - rank in yakuza that is equivalent to first lieutenant; second in rank to the _oyabun_

_sensei_ - respectful address reserved for professionals; in this context, it refers to doctor

_arigatou or arigatuo gozaimasu_ - thank you

-dono - a very formal address indicating uttmost respect

_kombini_ - borrowed term for "convenience store"

_boryokudan_ - violence groups; what Japanese authorities refer to yakuza, lumping them in with other criminal gangs


	3. Variazione II

**Rhapsody on a Theme of Rurouni**

_By lawless_

* * *

_Variazione II._

* * *

The incident was called in at six o' clock in the morning and the first on the scene were a couple of uniformed officers assigned to the nearest police box in the area. Lapses in department protocol revealed that these officers were as green as they came so that by the time someone called in Department Four and Police Inspector Takagi Tokio made it to the park on board a water bus, a small crowd was already gathered. They stood just beyond the police lines, silent and watchful. Nearby, the radio of a police response team sputtered and crackled sporadic reports of the day's crimes in progress.

Tokio stepped off the water bus and walked passed a group of tourists with cameras slung around their necks, talking in low murmurs. As she began to cross the yellow lines, a uniformed officer broke off from his companions to stop her. Tokio showed him her badge.

"Inspector?" He asked dubiously.

Tokio sighed. She got that all the time. One, she was a woman. Two, she was young. Most women who made it as far as she did in the force were older, more experienced. None of them, of course, had her credentials. One would think that with her elite record, she'd gain some respect being the first and only woman assigned to her department, but seniority was still the name of the game and her presence there was an aberration, if not a threat. Frankly, she was tired of it. "Look, you wanna see some ID?" Without waiting for a response, she fished out her wallet from her coat pocket and took out her identification card.

The police officer glanced at it. "Sorry, Inspector Takagi. Just had to make sure," he said apologetically. Tokio tried not to notice that his bow was too shallow by the standards of decorum and simply nodded as the officer stepped back to let her through.

"Were you the one who called it in?" She asked briskly. She knelt down and lifted the tarpaulin that covered the dead body. She made a quick assessment: Male. Eighty years old. Upper crust or a very successful criminal from the tailored black suit he was wearing. White ring marks on the skin but no ring. All marks of identity had been either removed or cut off; the face smashed in with a rock. Said rock had already been bagged, along with the single shell casing of a large caliber sniper bullet.

"Yes, ma'am," the police officer answered. "Me and my partner. That Amerikajin over there –" he pointed to a stout-middle aged man in a loud Hawaiian shirt and a trucker cap, standing a few feet away, speaking to another man with a ponytail "—he was the one who discovered the body. Told us all about it."

"How'd he find it?" Tokio questioned as she replaced the tarpaulin and rose to her feet. She was a slender, petite woman with sleek, black hair which she kept in a loose bun. Even in high heels, she barely reached the shoulders of the police officer she was talking to. Her voice was soft and feminine, her face, heart-shaped and delicate. All of that belied the steel of the woman.

"He's part of a group of Amerikajin tourists that made a brief stopover here," the police officer was saying, rather uncomfortably. "Said he was, uh, checking out the scenery when he noticed a hand sticking out from a bush. Thought at first whoever belonged to the hand must be some bast- uh, drunkard who'd passed out there the night before, then he saw the rest of him and, well, it was the tour guide, Nagoya-san, who told the management and they, in turn, called us here."

At that moment, the man with the ponytail noticed Tokio and interrupted the American he was talking to mid-sentence to hurry after her. "Excuse me, Inspector!"

Tokio did not stop. She'd recognized him almost immediately. Tsukioka Tsunan, or "Katsu" as he liked to be called, had a bad reputation with the authorities, infamous for being uncooperative when it came to the identities of his sources. The talk was that the notorious journalist was a former _yakuza_ that had been given a _joseki_, which explained his intimate knowledge of the inner workings of these underground groups and how he always seemed to know when incidents like this occurred. In fact, this would not be Tokio's first assignment with Department Four where she'd seen Katsu on the scene.

"Inspector, a word, if you please!" The journalist continued, falling into step behind her.

"This is a crime scene, Tsukioka-san. It's off-limits to civilians," Tokio told him without slowing down.

"I'm not an ordinary civilian," he protested.

"You're a reporter. I have even less reason to talk to you." They were walking away from the crowd but only after they were a considerable distance away from them and the rest of the officers on the scene did Tokio stop. Katsu stopped as well just as she turned to him. "That was Hoshino Shigeo, _oyabun_ of the most influential _boryokudan_ in Tokyo?" She mused aloud.

"Former _oyabun_," he corrected her. "He was replaced three months ago by one of his _shateigashira_."

"How do you know?"

Katsu shrugged. "I know."

Tokio stared at him. Katsu was a solemn-faced young man with intense, dark eyes that hardly ever blinked. 'One step away from being a fanatic,' an ungenerous colleague once described him. She wondered, and not for the first time, if she was doing the right thing, working with the journalist, but considering the alternative – handling public relations while her co-workers went out and did actual investigative work – strengthened her resolve. Her former boss in the Community Affairs Division did say that she was ambitious to a fault.

"I'm surprised this hasn't gotten out yet," she said after some length. "Hoshino had bodyguards, didn't he?"

Katsu shrugged, fingering the collar of his shirt. "I suppose they'll turn up somewhere."

"You don't think this is an inside job?" She questioned.

Katsu appeared to think about that for a moment. "Maybe, maybe not," he murmured. "_Yakuza_ politics is pretty convoluted. These guys are always offending each other and losing fingers over the smallest slight. Wasn't too long ago the Harakawa Alliance got decimated."

"There's been a change in the group structure. That always causes friction," she agreed, crossing her arms in front of her.

Katsu studied her for a moment, before saying, "That's not it though, is it?"

Tokio hesitated. "What…."

"Quid pro quo, Inspector," he reminded her.

She bit the underside of her lip, wondering how many rules, written or unwritten, she was breaking sharing confidential information with a known _yakuza_ conspiracy theorist. But: "There's a lot of talk going on. We're getting our intel piece by piece so it doesn't make a lot of sense right now but rumor has it, some group is consolidating with another, and some other is declaring war. The Juppongatana, ever heard of them?"

Katsu stared at her, then slowly shook his head.

* * *

Someone from the crowd grabbed Sanosuke's shoulders. He tried to break free but the person held on tight. "Remember the deal, _teme_," the guy hissed menacingly. "Next time he takes a swing at ya, hit the goddamned floor!"

"Go get him, Sano!" Another person shouted.

Snarling, Sano reached behind him to try and get free. Instead, he found himself being pushed back into the ring and right into his charging opponent. If that fist landed anywhere near his head…. This was it. This fight had gone on for far too long. He was supposed to go down on the third round. This was already the ninth.

Through vision blurred by perspiration and blood, Sano could see the hulking figure of the larger of the Hiruma brothers rushing towards him, fists raised. Gohei had always been the dim-witted one; his brother, Kihei, had all the brains. Even exhausted as he was, Sano could see the opening on his right side, just below his ribcage. Maybe it was self-preservation kicking in. Or the last quiver of his ego. (He just couldn't let it go.) But suddenly, Sano was struggling to regain his footing, finding it at the last moment, twisting to the side and completely missing the large, oncoming fist. Then twisting again, muscles screaming from exhaustion, Sano let out a shout as he released a two-punch combination right into that opening.

The blow was strong enough to crack one or two ribs. Gohei went down, and the crowd erupted into wild cheers.

In the ensuing chaos, Sano somehow made it to his locker room all by himself. His coach and trainer, Isobe, had disappeared some time between the fourth and fifth round. Nobody has seen him since. Isobe may be new to the biz but he was smart. Smarter than Sano, at least. And certainly smarter than Tomo, who went and did himself in by overdosing on meth the night before. Sano was going to have to deal with that. Tomo was the closest to a best friend he ever had, but right now, he had far more immediate concerns. He hoped for Isobe's sake that he was, as he'd often boasted, already halfway to Fujinomiya by now to lie low in some nameless _kakurega_.

The door to his locker room was kicked open. Followed by the barely conscious body of Isobe, all bruised and bloodied, his clothes torn. He practically flew through the doorway.

_Or not_, Sano thought, finding the familiar, M-shaped forehead of Fudosawa in a shiny, shark-skin suit with matching shoes standing there. He was flanked on each side by two burly-armed men in equally flashy clothes. One was bald; the other sported a tight perm. All together, the three of them were a walking, talking promo poster of what _yakuza _thugs looked like in videogames.

Despite the potential comic factor, Sano was far from amused. In truth, he was wired but he also knew that he was too tired and too much in pain to put up much of a fight. Besides Fudosawa might look like just another slimy _yakuza_, but he was extremely well-connected and his group had a stranglehold on almost every gym and mock-up ring in the Shimbashi area. One word from him and Sagara Sanosuke would never find anyone in Tokyo willing to put him up as a fighter. And where would that put him? Back in the docks, doing manual labor and earning minimum wage? Out of the question. Might as well let them have it.

"Well, well, I gotta hand it to ya, Zanza," said the _yakuza_ in a gratingly pleasant voice, as he stepped into the room, "you're one helluva crowd-pleaser." As if to punctuate his backhanded compliment, the roar of the crowd back at the ring seemed to rise in the awful quiet of the locker room.

Sano managed a nonchalant smile. "Jus' doin' my best."

"I can see that," said Fudosawa. He gave no hint whatsoever but all of a sudden, his two companions rushed forward and grabbed Sanosuke by the arms, pinning him to the wall. Held down and defenseless, Sano could only glare defiantly up at Fudosawa as he stepped close to hiss on his face. "You're one lucky son of a bitch."

"Funny," Sano said, grinning sarcastically. "Your mom said **she's** one lucky bitch when I fucked her up her fat ass."

Fudosawa smiled. And when Fudosawa smiled, it was seldom pleasant. Someone knocked off two of his front teeth several years ago and he had replaced it with silver plated falsies. They looked garish and they often clashed with his preferred gold-themed outfits. Fudosawa nodded at his men and one of them gave Sano a swift punch to the gut. Sano gasped and nearly doubled over but for the hands still holding him against the wall. Fudosawa grabbed him by the hair and leaned close, shouting into his ear: "Next time I tell ya to roll over, ya roll over like a good dog, or ya'll get more'n bruised kidneys! Ya feel me, _teme kono yaro_?"

Sano felt his head explode as Fudosawa banged it against the metal locker door. Then his men proceeded to kick him everywhere until he lost consciousness.

* * *

The car looked like a Mercedes Benz but the identifying marks, the automaker's logos, had been purposely removed. Now all that remained was a rather nondescript-looking black car, just like any other black car, except that it was shiny new and parked right in the middle of the street.

Tokio came upon it while on her way back from the Hamarikyu Gardens in Shimbashi. The vehicle blocked her way. She honked twice in rapid succession but the driver made no sign of movement or of even hearing her frustration. She disembarked, ready to give him a piece of her mind when the glass doors to the headquarters building of the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department swung open and out came a tall, lean man dressed in an impeccable gray suit and tie, his coat billowing behind him. He was flanked by a man with bleached-blond hair, wearing an attention-grabbing red coat.

At the sight of the two men, the driver of the Mercedes stepped out and hurried around the vehicle. The man in the gray suit turned and met Tokio's gaze as the driver decorously opened the door for him. Tokio fisted her hands unconsciously, not sure what this feeling was. She felt like she ought to know him. Before sliding inside his car, the man paused and narrowed his eyes in a smile that looked out of place on his severe face.

"Good morning," he greeted. His voice was smooth, without a ripple.

"Good morning," she greeted back, too surprised to say anything else. The man smiled again. He was preparing to dock inside when Tokio called to him, "_Ano_, _sumimasen,_ but you shouldn't park your car here."

He paused.

Tokio went on hurriedly, "It gets in the way and might be mistaken for a _yakuza_'s."

"Oh, that's alright." Without another word, the man in the gray suit slid inside.

His blond companion started to follow suit but not before grinning up at Tokio, saying, "Lady, we **are** _yakuza_."

Later on the top floor of the headquarters building, which stood beyond the historic Ministry of Justice headquarters in the Kasumigaseki part of Central Tokyo, Tokio found herself walking into a staring contest between Deputy Chief Uramura and his immediate subordinate, Senior Superintendent Igarashi. She hesitated in the doorway. "Did I miss anything?"

Neither men stirred, so Tokio decided to just stride in.

"By the way," she said apropos of nothing, making a beeline for the large table at the center of the room, which she noticed was littered with photographs and slips of loose paper, "I met an interesting guy on my way in. Said he was _yaku…za_," Tokio finished just as she saw a stolen capture of the same man she saw earlier. She picked it up, staring down at the man's hard face thoughtfully.

Finally, after what seemed like a very long time, the deputy chief glanced in her general direction. "Fujita Goro. Real name Saitou Hajime. Formerly, _shateigashira_ of Hoshino-gumi. Currently, _oyabun_ of Hoshino-gumi."

"What?" Tokio always prided herself on being in control – her emotions, her facial expressions, her life – but even she could not keep the shrill note out of her voice in this one. "What?" She said again, less shrilly.

"We brought him in on gambling…." Deputy Chief Uramura explained wearily, "But the man's damn careful about hiding evidence, ch!" He slumped in his seat, violently pushing a pile of papers in front of him, sending them flying to the floor. "You probably don't know this, Takagi, since you're new to the department, but he hasn't even got a record. Saitou Hajime is a card-carrying _yakuza_ but he's also clean as a whistle."

"That explains why old man Hoshino chose him over his _wakagashira_ to lead Hoshino-gumi. That man represents the new breed of _yakuza_," Igarashi said, rather tellingly.

"And what is that?" Tokio asked.

"The most dangerous kind: **legitimate**," he said, pronouncing the word like it was vile.

* * *

The hotel building where the meeting was held was a rectangular structure that faced north on its lot, which sat on _Kouen _Streetin central Shibuya between Shibuya Station and Yoyogi Park. This was a weekly meeting in which the division heads of the company discussed problems and brought everyone up to date. The conference room was packed. Executives with their assistants and secretaries. Assistants with their own secretaries.

Vice President and General Manager of Takani Pharmaceuticals, Takeda Kanryuu stood at the head of the table and said, "And now, I think it's time we discuss an urgent matter, which I'm sure is affecting, not just this company, but all of us on some personal level. Regardless of everything, we shall always remember the President as a man whose vision it was made this company possible. A man of principles, one who would much rather destroy his own life than to compromise his integrity. Today, I was just as shocked and heartbroken as all of you when I found out what happened. However, now is not the time to grieve. Now, more than ever, it becomes our responsibility to continue the affairs of this company even as we recover from this great tragedy. It might seem like asking too much too soon but we **owe** it to President Takani to carry on his legacy to the future." He flattened his hands on the table, his head down. He paused for a long time, and then slowly, he lifted his head and gazed at everyone, meeting their eyes in turn. Very sympathetic. But very controlled.

It was a spectacular performance, and in the audience, it produced the desired effect: they felt renewed commitment towards the company. It was all in their faces, the sudden brightening of the eyes like a hood had just been lifted.

Takeda sat back and placed his hands on the table. The die had been rolled. Now, all he had to do was wait for his turn to come up. The next stockholder's meeting was a bare five days from today and he already had most of the board backing his bid for the presidency.

* * *

TBC

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

Thank you very much for your reviews. I know I'm not making it easy for people to click on the link for this story, what with the lack of summary and lack of clear pairings in the category section. Some of you may have only bothered with this because you have me on the author alert list. If you're one of these people, I appreciate your trust and hope that you enjoy and review this latest offering of mine.

* * *

LET'S LEARN JAPANESE!

__Amerikajin - American

_yakuza_ - Japanese mafia

_joseki_ - an order to have the name of a person removed from the _yakuza_ registry; a benign way of leaving the organization

_oyabun_ - literally "father;" equivalent to the don or boss in Italian mafia

_boryokudan_ - literally "violence groups;" what the police refer to _yakuza_

_shateigashira_ - lieutenant or officer in a _yakuza_ organization

Juppongatana - literally "ten swords"

_teme_ - rude way of saying "you!"

_kakurega_ - refers to hideout restaurants which criminals used frequent to lie low from the authorities; usually located in quiet, residential neighborhoods; today, such restaurants are popular among single 20-somethings and 30-somethings looking to get away from big chain restaurants

_teme kono yaro!_ - a very rude way of saying "You dog!"

_Ano..._ - miscellaneous informal term for "well" or "actually" used in the beginning of a sentence

_sumimasen_ - Pardon me or excuse me

_wakagashira_ - first lieutenant in a _yakuza_ organization; second-in-command; the _oyabun_'s number 2


	4. Variazione III

**Rhapsody on a Theme of Rurouni**

_By lawless_

* * *

_Variazione III._

* * *

The funeral was held at ten o'clock the following Tuesday morning. People in black suits with large black umbrellas stood at attention as the tattooed pallbearers in nothing but _fundoshi_ carried the casket to the hearse. From a distance, the hearse looked like a small ornate temple, elaborately carved and gilded with gold. Two black limousines bearing crested banners followed it while members of the main and branch families piled behind. Joining the solemn funeral procession to the crematorium were various friends, business associates and politicians. At curbside, men in mirrored sunglasses and tattoos, stood together in the gutters, effectively cordoning off the whole length of the street while about twenty detective cars, unmarked except for the proverbial removable red light atop their roofs, made silent rounds in the general neighborhood.

A reporter bravely stood in close proximity to the tattooed men, her back turned towards the spectacle, talking over the mic:

_"…six days ago near Shiori Pond in Hamarikyu Gardens. He had been shot once in the head with a sniper bullet. After investigation by the Organized Crime Control Bureau and the local police, they determined that the murdered man was Hoshino Shigeo, retired member and former _kumicho_ of the well-known Hoshino-gumi. There were no eye-witnesses..."_

The image on the screen abruptly changed to anime characters in skirts and metal plating, battling each other for peace and order. Yahiko put down the remote and picked up a roll of sweet omelet with his chopsticks, never taking his eyes off the TV screen for a moment. Beside him, Genzai-sensei turned to the next page in the paper he was reading while guzzling his favorite cup of jasmine tea.

"Yahiko, turn it back. I was watching that," Kaoru, pretty in a pale yellow sundress, told her brother from her seat across the table. Beside her sat Kenshin, his complexion still wan but was otherwise recovering well. He smiled in gratitude when Kaoru handed him a bowl of rice.

"It's Queen's Blade Rebellion!" Yahiko said as though that was reason enough.

"So? That was the news," his elder sister retorted. She reached over for the remote and pressed a button. At once, the screen changed back to the same news channel as before, except that the anchorman was now introducing a different reporter – a male one this time, standing outside the edifice of a rectangular building in Shibuya.

The text at the bottom of the screen read: Takani Pharmaceuticals Company Headquarters. In the background, a man in a dapper tan suit and a red tie was walking with his bodyguards towards a parked silver-gray Lexus Hybrid. On the screen, the reporter was identifying the man as Takeda Kanryuu:

_"….President Takani committed suicide amid allegations of corporate fraud and questionable transactions. Two others face voluntary questioning as early as this weekend. In an earlier interview, the company's acting president, Takeda Kanryuu, has placed the blame on Takani, Vice President of Finance Komori Hibito and internal auditor Nakano Oda for the cover-up, and said that he would consider filing criminal complaints against them…."_

A clip of a different interview with Takeda was then shown:

_"…a traumatic and emotional experience. I can't even begin to imagine the loss she feels_," he was saying. The interviewer asked him another question, to which he answered, _"No. But she has refused to see anyone ever since this tragic event in her life. Considering the circumstances, I wholeheartedly sympathize._"

The screen changed back to the male reporter as he said: "_A Tokyo police spokeswoman has confirmed that a probe of Takani Pharmaceuticals is under way for possible involvement of the _yakuza_ gang, Hoshino-gumi, whose members are currently mourning the death of their former leader, Hoshino Shigeo, himself a victim of a _yakuza_ shooting in Hamarikyu Gardens, Chuuou…."_

"These gangsters," Genzai muttered under his breath as he finally put down the paper and took another sip of his tea.

"They're all over the news these days," Kaoru observed. She filled up a bowl with rice and gave it to the old doctor.

"Just so," Genzai said, accepting the bowl and picking up his chopsticks. "That funeral's more a show of power than a solemn occasion. Whoever's leading Hoshino-gumi now won't sit on this for long. Mark my words," the doctor said, looking first at Kaoru and Yahiko, then Kenshin, before he helped himself to some _ume-boshi_, "the next few days will be bloody and violent."

At that moment, a familiar lanky figure emerged from his room. He gave a jaw-cracking yawn as he joined them at the table. "Yo," Sano said. The others around the breakfast table made room for him and he ended up sitting in the tiny space between Kenshin and Yahiko. His right hand was still wrapped in heavy bandage, making it difficult for him to hold the chopsticks. Kaoru had already anticipated the problem and had been preparing him simple soup meals since he got injured.

"So what's this 'bout blood and violence?" Sano, who apparently heard the last bit of Genzai's warning, asked as he blew on his soup.

"_Yakuza_," Kaoru provided, daintily chewing on a slice of daikon radish.

"I may have to buy more supplies for the clinic," Genzai murmured to himself.

"I'm worried, Sano," Kaoru continued. "Actually, I'm a lot worried, what with Fudosawa beating you up and that new gang out there."

"_Feh_. My business is gettin' beat up. This is nothin'." Sano said between making loud slurping noises as he gulped down the thick soup that Kaoru made for him. Beside him, Yahiko snickered, which earned him a quick swat in the head from the grown man.

Kenshin also took a tentative sip from his own bowl of soup and paled, prompting Sano to send him an amused grin.

"Terrible, isn't it?" He said conversationally. "I keep tellin' the girl to take cooking lessons but she's stubborn as hell. Don't worry," he said, tapping Kenshin good-naturedly on the shoulder, "the more you eat of her cooking, the better it tastes. It's somethin' of an acquired taste really."

A soup bowl flew into his face with precision. Sano just laughed and went to grab a toothpick.

Kaoru frowned in disapproval. "I wish you'd stop associating with those thugs, Sano."

Sano just shrugged. "A man's gotta eat, right?"

"You can find some honest work," she grumbled.

Surprisingly, that shut him up. "_Na, jou-chan_," he said after a moment, sounding not a little hurt, "you're the one who's always sayin' I'm too dumb for anythin' but fight for money."

Kaoru visibly colored. "That's…uh…I never said you can stop boxing. I'm just saying you should stay away from Fudosawa and those idiots."

"He can't help it, Kaoru," Yahiko piped up. "Idiots like to stick together."

Sano sent him a dirty look before turning to Kaoru, toothpick pressed firmly between his teeth. "How 'bout this, _na_? I give Fudosawa the cold shoulder an' you stay outta my hair for once? Deal?"

Kaoru made a face. "Fine. I'll stay out of your hair."_  
_

"Good. Got yourself a deal then, _jou-chan_." Sano grinned and, shoving his hands in his pockets, he stalked out of the room without another word while whistling a song out of tune.

* * *

"When it rains, it pours." From the office window of the Organized Crime Control Bureau in the Keishicho headquarters building, Deputy Chief Uramura watched the lavish funeral procession below with some trepidation. The assembly took up an entire block, plus another which quickly became filled with TV crews and press minivans. Traffic had to be re-routed.

Senior Superintendent Igarashi stepped from behind him to look as well. "I wouldn't be surprised if among those mourners, we'd find a few dietmen and government officials. Not to mention _uyuko dentai_. Those ultranationalists are becoming more active these days."

"Hoshino Shigeo…_che!_" Uramura exclaimed. "Takagi was right all along." He pulled back his chair and sat down, steepling his fingers in front of him. On his desk were no less than three radios which connected him directly with groups of detectives and cops patrolling the areas near the headquarters of Hoshino-gumi, Takeguchi-kai and Chiba Ryuu Society. The tiny yellow LED light blinked a steady rhythm. Yellow meant stand-by. Red meant Hoshino-gumi was retaliating for the death of their former _kumicho_ or one of the other three was trying to exacerbate the matter. Simply put, it meant war.

He was hoping very much against the latter.

"We got some of their most senior _kanbu_ in custody. That should calm them down for a little while," Igarashi offered, still staring down at the spectacle on the street below.

"A little while," Uramura echoed with an ironic twist to his mouth. "We can't hold them for more than twenty-four hours without proper charges. And the moment, they're out, it'd be a goddamned free-for-all."

"What if we bring in Fujita Goro again?"

Uramura gave a sigh. "We've been through that. The man's not an idiot. The moment we show up at his doorstep, he'll figure out what we're after and slap us back with a lawsuit the city can't afford."

Igarashi turned and walked around the deputy chief's desk. He came to a stop at the center table, fingering one of the files that littered the top. Some of them were organizational charts of each of the major _yakuza_ groups in Tokyo. He picked up the one marked with the red star crest of Hoshino-gumi. "What if," he said, "we make a case of internal strife?" He looked up to stare straight at Uramura as he added, "A power struggle with brutal results."

Uramura frowned. "What are you on about, Igarashi?"

"Fujita Goro was _shateigashira_ of Hoshino-gumi before he was chosen as _kumicho_," he said with a slight shrug. "I imagine a lot of people are still harboring some resentment over that. And Fujita being the careful man that he is –"

"—he'd be the sort to eliminate all opposition before they can gather force," Uramura finished for him.

By the time Uramura had latched onto Igarashi's full meaning, the latter was looking at him with a gleam in his eyes. "What if Hoshino was **that** opposition?"

* * *

Some time after breakfast, it had begun to rain. Kaoru watched Kenshin sit in his usual corner of the living room, staring out the window, his face so still it was difficult to tell if he was awake or had fallen asleep with his eyes open. Why did he do that? She'd asked herself often. It was like he was staring at something that was not even there: a long-ago place, some forgotten memory, a past never to be reclaimed. Sometimes, when she watched him like this, she'd feel an inexplicable urge to crack a joke or do something silly, if only to clear away that melancholy look in his eyes. But she never did. Instead, she'd hand him a feather duster and get him to help her clean the house.

"Kaoru-dono," Kenshin called softly when she walked past him in order to plug the vacuum cleaner to the outlet.

"_Hai!_" She exclaimed, nearly jumping out of her skin. She hadn't expected him to speak.

Kenshin stared at her, eyes wide with bemusement. "_Oro_? Did I scare you, Kaoru-dono?"

"No. You just surprised me, that's all," she answered with a self-deprecating smile. "I thought you were asleep."

He dismissed the notion and instead gestured at the vacuum cleaner she was absently holding. "Do you need help with that?"

"Oh, will you?" But she hesitated, remembering how his wounds looked when Genzai-sensei changed his bandages this morning. They were not completely healed yet, and he still looked too pale for a normal person. She bit the underside of her lip before saying, "Tell you what, why don't you try it for a while and if you feel weird or lightheaded, just lie down and I'll finish for you?"

"Sounds like a plan," he said, rising to his feet.

As he did, Kaoru realized that this was the first time she'd ever seen him standing with his full height. She was amused to find that he was a little short for a man, almost the same height as her. With his long hair and slight build, she bet he could even be mistaken for a girl from the back. But there was nothing girly about the hands that took the vacuum cleaner from her or about the tightly wound muscles of the arms that strained when he began vacuuming the corner of the room.

For a while, the two of them worked closely together. The noise from the vacuum prevented any prolonged conversation but they were content with just performing each task at hand until they were both dirty and sticky with sweat but very satisfied. As they sat together on the couch, legs outstretched, too tired to move, thoughts unguarded, Kaoru asked him a question she never would have asked until now.

The question hung in the air between them, and as soon as she had asked she knew she wanted to know.

"How did I end up here?" He repeated, turning his head slightly to look at her face.

She looked at him and then she didn't look at him. She stared at the shadows of them reflected on the black TV screen. "I mean, I know **why** you're here, of course." She brought him here.

Kenshin continued to study her, his face a mask.

Kaoru's resolve buckled and she gave a sheepish smile. "I don't mean to pry. You can tell me to go to hell if you want."

Surprisingly, that drew a chuckle from him, encouraging Kaoru to sneak a peek at his face and seeing that he wasn't offended at all, she laughed, too. He caught her eyes and held it, smiling. His smile was always gentle, always sad.

* * *

By nine o' clock that evening, the rain was reduced to a light drizzle but the streets on the west side of Shimbashi Station were alive with activity. Men hocking jewelry competed for sidewalk space with lottery ticket booths. Taxis lined up for fares while salary men, unwinding after a grueling week, filtered into hostess clubs off the main streets. Mixed in with this crowd were men wearing advertising sandwich boards containing maps and directions to the underground casinos.

Sanosuke stalked these until he came to an establishment with bright neon lights announcing its name: Shuueiya. Inside were dozens of tables where men and women sat, playing anything from poker to blackjack to _hana-fuda_. There were also several roulette wheels and _pachinko_ machines lined up on one side. With his hands shoved deep in his pockets, Sano weaved through the crowd until he found a blackjack table with room for one more player. It was manned by a petite girl wearing green contact lenses and an electric blue wig.

She gave Sano a social smile, "_'Nii-san_, are you going to play?"

"What's the bet?" He shouted over the loud music and general hubbub.

"How much can you afford?" The dealer returned.

Sano counted his money. "Two hundred and fifty." He could feel the old excitement tingling at his nerve-endings as he put the bills down on the table and watched the dealer take them and replace them with blue and red chips. Then, he took a seat and tried to rub his hands together through the heavy bandage that wrapped his right.

Half an hour later, he stared morosely down at his rapidly dwindling chips. Things were not looking up. The dealer placed five cards face-down in front of him. In a weary move, Sano scraped his cards against the table, then tapped it once with his index finger. The dealer dealt him another card: a five of diamonds.

Sano sat up straighter and checked his cards again. Hmm. There was a beat and then he slid his cards under his bet and moved his hand horizontally, signifying his decision to stand. The other players did the same, waiting now for the dealer to make her move. She smiled socially and was about to reveal her hole card when a commotion at the entrance caught everybody's attention. All of a sudden, a red car rammed through the wall of the casino, dispersing the guests and causing debris and broken tables to fly out. Someone opened fire and soon the whole place was pumped with bullets.

It happened so fast. In less than a minute, everything went to hell. Sano had barely any chance to react before he was down on the floor with the rest of them, covering his head and crawling on hands and knees, trying to get to the entrance. The bulbs of the chandelier overhead shattered, spreading glass everywhere; someone screamed.

"The **fuck** is going on?"

_Dammit! They couldn't have picked a better time!_ Sano thought. He caught sight of some chips; someone must have dropped them in the ensuing panic. Without sparing a second thought, he picked them up and put them in his pocket. Later, after he made it out through the back door and was running through the street, Sano was surprised to find a woman hurrying a few feet behind him. The others had gone in opposite directions as the shooting continued.

"Stop!" A man shouted.

Sano did not stop. The woman behind him was panting so hard he could hear her. Loud, heavy steps on concrete. Another voice joined the other. "Wait, Megumi!"

A wild shot hit the wall of a building to Sano's immediate right. Holy shit! He docked into a blind alley. A split second later, the woman in the blue dress appeared into view. It was then a simple matter of reaching forward and grabbing her by the waist. He honestly had no idea why he did it. She didn't even have time to yell in surprise before Sano hauled her against him and pressed a sweaty, bandaged palm over her mouth. Her eyes went wide. He could tell that she was going to scream. He clamped on her mouth tighter as he held out a finger over his lips. _Don't_, he tried to communicate with his eyes. Still panicking but, at least, she stopped struggling.

Out on the main street, the footsteps were receding, until finally there were only the usual noises as men continued to go about their business, unaware or uncaring. But Sano knew it was only a matter of time. Fudosawa's men were probably regrouping this very minute. This blatant attack on their turf was not to be overlooked.

The woman's eyes shot to Sano's face again. He could feel her warm breath against his hand through the bandage, her heaving breasts, and despite the extremely stressful situation he was in (or maybe because of it), Sano finally noticed that she was a total babe. He waited a little longer, then gauged that it was safe to let her go.

At the sudden release, tense muscles sprung up and she practically shoved him off. But then, she lost her footing and nearly fell herself. He grabbed her shoulders, holding her steady. "Whoa there!" He exclaimed. "Careful."

She drew in a deep breath and let it out again. Ignoring his warning, she tried to brush his hands off. "Take your hands off me."

He dropped them at once. She stepped away. "You okay?" He called after her. She still looked shocked and disoriented. Her hair was a mess and her dress was torn on one side, showing more skin than the wearer probably intended. Sano couldn't help himself. Casually, he let his gaze slide down. She was a long one, slender in build with legs that seemed to stretch on and on. Just now with her body pressed and pliant against his…. Slowly, his gaze climbed back to hers.

She didn't blush at the survey, though she recognized it. There wasn't apprehension or fear in her eyes. Instead, she shot him a hard look, her mouth twisted in a nasty smile. "Had your fill?"

* * *

TBC

* * *

**Author's Notes: **I was planning to have this chapter beta-ed but my beta reader kinda disappeared after I sent him/her the draft. Oh well. I'm glad you seem okay with Saitou being yakuza in this fic. So why do I know so much about yakuza? Research. Not - LOL - insider knowledge. Well, I hope my efforts are worth it. Please read and review.

* * *

LET'S LEARN JAPANESE!

_fundoshi_ - Japanese traditional loincloth

_kumicho_ - "father;" the _yakuza_ equivalent to the godfather in Italian mafia

-sensei - honorific used to denote a profession; refers to a doctor

_yakuza_ - the Japansese mafia

_ume-boshi_ - ume pickles

_feh_ - some cuss word

_na_ - miscellaneous term, "isn't it that..."

_jou-chan_ - "little girl" or "missy"

Keishichou - the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department

_uyuko dentai_ - the Japanese ultra-nationalist party

_che_ - "shit!" or "damn!"

_kanbu_ - general term for an officer or executive in a _yakuza_ organization

_shateigashira_ - lieutenant or officer in a _yakuza_ organization

_hai_ - literally means "yes" but really means "I'm listening"

_oro_ - Kenshin's nonsensical exclamation

-dono - a very formal address indicating uttmost respect

_hana-fuda_ - a type of Japanese cardgame popular with _yakuza_

_pachinko_ - a Japanese arcade game

_nii-san_ - "brother"


End file.
